


Normal Adolescent Lycanthrope Behavior

by crossroadswrite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Growing up together, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Normal Adolescent Behavior Fusion, Asexual Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Humor, Multi, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Pack Dynamics, Polyamory, Still Werewolves, i was informed this was funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:50:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4048573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sitles has said it and he'll repeat as many times as necessary: <em>it’s normal.</em></p><p>They want to have sex so they have sex. And they’re smart about it, because while most of high school is running around worrying about boyfriends and girlfriends and illegal drinking they’re having all the fun they want without the hazard of broken hearts and misunderstandings. They all know what they’re in for and none of them will deviate from it.</p><p>It’s love and love is normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normal Adolescent Lycanthrope Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the ever lovely [ThroughTheTulips](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips) I have no idea where this fic would be without you, probably it would have crashed and burned down typo land and for that I'm absolutely grateful.
> 
> To be completely fair this is kind of a mess, but I just really think that everyone should get all the love just all of it and sometimes that means sexing up and sometimes that means playing Mario Kart together and cheating while stuffing their mouths with pizza.
> 
> Anyway, if I in any way bastardized polyamorous relationships, my sincerest apologies, it wasn't my intention at all.
> 
> And because tags are annoying the end goal realtionship is: Stiles Stilinski/Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore/Scott McCall/Allison Argent/Erica Reyes/Vernon Boyd/Isaac Lahey/Kira Yukimura/Malia Tate/Cora Hale

They’re not depraved, sluts, lost or whatever else people like to throw at them. Their behavior isn’t something completely out of the ordinary.

Their behavior _shouldn’t_ warrant the looks they systematically get from everyone.

Stiles casually glares at the group of people that gathered in the other side of the school hallway just so they can have the best view of Stiles and Erica, so they can whisper dirty little things about them.

Maybe they’ll come up with another theory. Last he’s heard they’re all being paid by Jackson to be his personal harem, but then again the theories that the students of Beacon Hills High can come up with change every other week.

He can’t say he’s particularly impressed by this one.

Erica grins – bares her teeth, really – at the group, leaning closer to Stiles and licking from his collar bone to his jaw provocatively and turning back only to wink lewdly at them.

“You just love to tease, don’t you?” he grins, leans closer to her.

Erica’s grin turns that little bit sharper, she flashes her eyes beta gold and playful at him, “Don’t you know it.”

Stiles laughs and turns towards his locker to get his math books, “What do you think they’ll come up with next? Aliens? Mind control? Governmental secret social experiment?” he hazards, trying to do the exchange between books without ending up with the entire content of his locker on the floor.

“Cult!” Erica says gleefully.

“Didn’t we do cult, like, three months ago?” He raises an eyebrow, suppresses the fist pump when he manages to get his stuff without incident.

“Eh,” Erica shrugs, sounding bored already, “their creativity is lacking.”

Stiles snorts, grabbing her chin and pulling her in for a kiss. Erica, because she’s Erica, licks at the seam of his lips until he drops his mouth open, turns a chaste kiss into something filthy and amazing.

She pulls back with a smirk, wipes a bit of red lipstick she smeared on his lips. “Have a nice time in math.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, kisses her once on the cheek and walks away, shrugging off the weird looks the student body keeps giving him.

«»

“You’re late,” Lydia sniffs primly, pointing her pencil threateningly, “do you know how many people I had to glare at so they wouldn’t take your seat? Seven, Stiles. _Seven_.”

Stiles slides into his seat. “Did it tire your pretty eyes?” he asks mockingly, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Lydia pokes him in the arm with the sharp end of her pencil, making him jerk away with a yelp.

“Jesus, woman.”

“Don’t _woman_ me.”

Stiles rubs his arm and glares at her, “I ran into Erica on my way over. Are you gonna kiss my booboo better?”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “I’m not Allison.”

“ _Clearly_ ,” he huffs, “the ‘wolves hurt me, the humans-“

“Not a human.”

“-hurt me, how am I supposed to live through high school.”

Lydia rolls her eyes at him.

Stiles pouts.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Boyd deadpans, plunking down on the seat next to him.

“That’s so sweet, really?”

“No.”

Lydia snickers into her hand while Stiles is busy very maturely sticking his tongue out at Boyd.

«»

“They’re disgusting,” Malia remarks, rubbing her cheek over the top of Stiles’ head, she sniffs, “their feelings leak everywhere.”

Stiles snorts, leans back against her chest. Malia always sits on the hood of his jeep and pulls Stiles’ back to her chest so she can scent him to her heart’s content until the others arrive.

It’s pretty much a ritual by now.

“Absolutely repulsive,” Stiles agrees easily, watching Scott bounce Allison on his back and having to stop every three minutes so Isaac can kiss one of them.

“Stiles!” Scott shouts, waving both arms around; Allison has enough thigh strength to hold herself in place without any help.

Isaac snaps his head towards them, seems conflicted for all of two minutes before bounding over to Stiles and rubbing their noses together, stretches on the tips of his toes to kiss Malia.

“’Sup, pup?” Stiles asks with a grin, gripping the back of Isaac’s neck for a second.

“That wasn’t funny the first time you said it and guess what? It’s still not funny, Stilinski.”

“I’m hilarious and you know it Lahey.”

“Tate,” Malia mutters.

Stiles looks upwards at her and she shrugs carelessly, “I didn’t want to be left out of the last name game.”

“I’m not letting you watch Shrek anymore,” he decides, which is closely followed by a chorus of “Liaaaaaaaar.”

 _Goddamn werewolves_.

“I regret keeping all of you after The Great Biting Tragedy of Twenty-Eleven.”

“Stop calling it that,” Scott complains dropping Allison to the floor and leaning over to nuzzle against Stiles’ cheek.

“Never,” he says solemnly, reaching for Ally’s hand and kissing her knuckles, eliciting that pretty blush.

Malia pushes him and hops off the hood, “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Isaac remarks, then stops, turning wide eyes at Stiles, “I’m starving too.”

“Me too!”

“Same.”

“Ugh, fine get in, I’ll feed your furry asses.”

“My ass is not furry,” Allison interjects, ducking to the back of the Jeep and happily settling in between Isaac and Scott.

“It’s not. You have a very nice butt, Ally A.”

“Are you implying I don’t have a nice butt?” Isaac leans over to the front; Malia bites his ear just because.

“No biting in the car and your butt is _fine_. Everyone’s butt is fine.”

“But what’s your favorite butt?”

“Mine obviously, you may have a fine booty but it doesn’t make me see stars.”

“You do like taking it up the butt,” Isaac nods.

They all nod.

“Are the others meeting us there?” Allison pulls Isaac back by his shirt and immediately occupies his space, poking her head between the seats.

“Erica and Boyd are. Lyds and Jackson said they had a thing with Jackson’s family.”

Allison deflates, bottom lip sticking out in a slight pout, “They’re missing it again?”

Stiles squeezes the wheel rhythmically, concentrates in navigating the traffic.

“They’re busy.”

“They’re ditching,” Malia crosses her arms and glares at the traffic light.

“They’re going through stuff.”

“What stuff?” Scott gently pushes Allison towards Isaac so he can shove his head between the front seats.

Stiles clenches his jaw, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know!” Isaac shoves Scott off, staring at Stiles incredulously, “but you _always_ know.”

“I know. I just. They won’t tell me and it’s not like I’m about to force them to,” he huffs, making the turn to his house.

Isaac falls back into his sit with a petulant pout, “Erica is gonna be pissed.”

Stiles sighs and parks his Jeep in the driveway, “Erica _is_ gonna be pissed.”

«»

He thinks it starts with Lydia. Beautiful, smart, _ruthless_ Lydia.

Scott, Jackson, Stiles and Lydia had been a group since kindergarten, so naturally they knew every little embarrassing situation each other had ever gone through. Lydia was the only girl in the group, commandeering the boys around and made them do her bidding.

Even at the tender age of three she was a little terror, revolutionizing the classroom with two or three well put words.

It’s only natural for Jackson and Stiles to fall in love with her by the time they reach they get enrolled in middle school. It’s only normal for Lydia to decide that _one_ boyfriend isn’t enough for her so she can have two.

And then Scott felt left out so Lydia in all her middle school wisdom made him her boyfriend too and it was good.

Back then they didn’t do much but hold hands and kiss on the cheek chastely on the lips, little giggling pecks of little children playing pretend. They hung out and fought to decide who got to keep the Charizard card (Lydia did obviously) and helped each other with homework and did all the stupid shit kids who are really good friends do in middle school.

The entire boyfriend thing started in the first year of middle grade. Stiles feels the need to point that out since in their second year there was Malia. Barely controlled Malia who had a penchant to bite people who weren’t nice.

Stiles liked Malia and Lydia liked Malia so they invited her to their group and to be their girlfriend and she said yes.

That was also when Lydia had decided that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend were stupid so they were just a group of friends that loved each other very much.

In their third year they found out Malia was a werecoyote. Hell, in their third year Malia found out that _she_ was a werecoyote.

Her parents didn’t know and they knew adults could be idiots about these things so they decided to keep it a secret from all the adults and on full moons they started ditching school, which mustn’t be such a bad thing, because the Hales are a big family and they do it all the time.

In their fourth year, Stiles found Boyd crying because of his sister so he hugged him for a long time and decided that Boyd could be with them.

Boyd didn’t really like kissing, but he liked holding hands and hugs. Lydia and Scott immediately liked him and Malia loved that he was big enough to carry her piggy back style to places.

After Boyd came Erica who was not shy, but repressed and sad. Even Malia loved Erica so she definitely was in their group. And after Erica came Isaac whose dad hit him a lot. Stiles knew a lot of first aid so it was okay and the Sheriff arrested Isaac’s dad for being an asshole.

So, by the end of middle school they were a big group of love. By high school they started edging past love into sex and that’s about when the Argents rolled into town and Allison captivated pretty much all of their attention.

It’s just normal.

They all love each other, they all hang out with each other, they all have sex with each other.

Stiles honestly can’t see what’s so abnormal about it. And it’s not like everyone has sex with everyone all the time.

Stiles pretty much has sex with everyone but Scott (and Boyd who wasn’t really into sex), because Scott is like a brother and for him that edges on incest a little bit too much, even if they kiss and cuddle and do all the other gross stuff.

Lydia just takes what she wants and the rest be damned, even if she strays towards Jackson.

Malia doesn’t like having sex with Scott or Isaac or Jackson. She only really touches the girls or Stiles, he guesses she makes an exception for him given that’s she’s really gay the rest of the time for pretty much all the girls.

Boyd isn’t really interested in sex.

Erica will pretty much fuck anything that moves.

Jackson is almost pitifully monogamous with Lydia. He only kisses Allison and fucks Stiles and when he does it’s always in a threesome situation.

Scott is in disgusting I-want-to-marry-you love with Isaac and Allison so those three normally just do their thing, even though Allison gets around a bit.

Like he said: it’s normal.

They want to have sex so they have sex. And they’re smart about it, because while most of high school is running around worrying about boyfriends and girlfriends and illegal drinking they’re having all the fun they want without the hazard of broken hearts and misunderstandings. They all know what they’re in for and none of them will deviate from it.

It’s love and love is normal.

«»

Erica is still complaining about Lydia and Jackson not showing up.

“Do they think they’re too good for us?” she sneers, fingers twisted in Isaac’s hair. Stiles is kind of impressed how she can keep a coherent line of thought with Isaac eating her out.

Stiles sighs, keeps playing with Allison’s hair, rolling a lock between his fingers before letting it go. Ally likes the distraction when she’s feeling a little stressed, and having the family she has, she’s always a little stressed.

“I told you they had a thing with the Whittemores.”

Erica tugs at Isaac’s hair until he moans, looks satisfied with it, before answering, “They always have a thing with the Whittemores lately. You know Jackson’s father doesn’t like _this_.”

Malia walks in the basement where Stiles made their lounge zone, balancing five pizzas and growling at Scott when he tries to take them off her.

“Be nice,” he tells her distractedly.

“I made this pizza.”

“Boyd made that pizza. _Share_.”

Malia huffs but passes it around.

“If Mr. Whittemore’s opinion didn’t matter two years ago, it won’t matter now either.”

Erica opens her mouth to answer, but Isaac tramples her, “I give up,” he grumbles, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand and flopping down on Scott’s lap.

“Lahey, where are you going! You promised me an orgasm!”

Isaac snuffles into Scott’s neck, “You’re obviously too upset.”

“Or maybe you’re just _weak_ ,” she snarks.

“I’m not getting on my knees again. Ask Stiles to do it.”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with Stiles. He can’t talk with his mouth full.”

Allison arches her neck to roll her eyes at Erica, “Have you seen him eat. He won’t shut up even on taco night.”

“It’s pretty disgusting,” Erica agrees.

Stiles squints at her, “Next time there’s cake I’m going to tape your disgusting face eating it and I will laugh.”

“Promises, promises,” she waves a dismissive hand at him, grabs Malia’s arm as she passes by and tugs her into her lap.

Malia looks down at where she has three slices of pizza in one hand and at Erica’s lips clearly conflicted.

Boyd steals her pizza and makes that decision for her.

“Don’t think this conversation is over,” Erica threatens, already too distracted with the werecoyote in her lap.

“If you have growly sex please go to Stiles’ room. We’re gonna watch a movie,” Scott pipes in, putting some lame romcom on with the pretense he’s doing it for Allison even if everyone knows Allison prefers movies where shit explodes.

«»

Jackson is an asshole. That’s just the absolute, uncontested truth of it.

Jackson is a humongous asshole but that’s fine because most of them are too.

(Namely, Stiles. They had a contest once and Stiles came in second. Erica came in third. Jackson, of course, won.)

He thinks he’s too good and too rich for some people. He’s obsessive with his workout regime and lives like he’s got something to prove. He fucks like he’s got something to prove, too.

It’s a little bit sad, really, how if you praise Jackson enough you can make him fall apart within minutes. Not all of them can handle Jackson’s brand of asshole. Even Erica steers clear.

Normally Jackson turns to Lydia and when it’s not Lydia it’s Stiles, sometimes Allison and Isaac that one time.

Malia’s inner coyote and Jackson’s inner wolf just don’t get along, Stiles loses count of how many times he’s had to break fights between the two of them.

Scott and Isaac can’t handle the brand of bullying that translates into Jackson’s friendship, not when it comes to sex.

Allison is a Disney princess filled with kindness, patience, and the right brad of ‘I’ll-fuck-you-up’ to handle him.

Boyd simply doesn’t care.

But his point is: Jackson is a precious little thing that needs to be tended to and carefully handled, just like his douchetastic Porsche.

Having sex with him always goes one of both ways, either it’s a fight, where Stiles will get off a little bruised but it works for both of them to release tension or Stiles will see if he can break the record and make Jackson shake apart in less than ten minutes.

Jackson doesn’t bottom. It attacks his manliness or whatever his parents drilled into his head.

Still, for someone so strong willed, so pigheaded, blunt, assholeish as he is, he comes with a handle carefully label.

«»

“Cora Hale is watching us again,” Isaac remarks, baring his teeth too close to Stiles’ neck.

“Everyone watches us, Isaac.”

“Not like _that_ ,” he hums, gripping Stiles chin and turning his head to where Cora Hale is, indeed watching them intently, curiously, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing.

“Those Hales have zero subtlety,” he snorts, leaning back against Isaac’s chest and dropping his head to his shoulder, baring his neck with a smirk.

They’re sitting outside on the grass of the school campus since they’re the only ones of their group that have this free period and Isaac likes to be outdoors as much as he can. He’s all about open spaces and cuddling.

“Do you think we should go over and say hi?” he asks wonderingly, the asshole note slipping into his voice, “Maybe she wants to join our super secret orgy cult.”

Stiles laughs, “Are we still at cult? I’m disappointed really.”

He lifts his head only to have the pleasure of being glared at by a Hale, decides to wink lewdly only to see her glare harder.

“They _are_ pretty good at glaring, I’ll have to give them that.”

Isaac huffs a laugh, presses his lips against the side of Stiles’ neck, more in a claim than anything else. It’s insane how protective his friends get of him around other ‘wolves.

«»

Malia is a feral little thing.

She has to repress her coyote at home, be perfectly behaved which never works well. More often than not Stiles will wake up with Malia passed out on his bed, half on top of him half off the bed and a worried voicemail from her parents on his house phone looking for her.

She was the first, Stiles’ intro to the craptastic supernatural world before The Great Biting Tragedy of Twenty-Eleven, which, looking back, was a great thing because if the supernatural had been unleashed on Stiles all at once he would probably be at Eichen House rocking himself back and forward.

Besides having to repress who she is in her home life and the distance that puts between her and her sister, Malia also hates labels. She _mostly_ only goes for the girls and all the girls go for each other because they all know what’s up, and heterosexual relationships have the pesky impediments of drastically different upbringings.

Stiles says _mostly_ , because despite Malia preferring the girls at times she’ll indulge with Stiles in doing the sex, mostly when she’s horny and everyone else is busy.

Stiles doesn’t really mind, he’s glad he has Malia, glad of the constant surprise that she is, of the way that next to her only Allison comes close to the degree of viciousness Stiles is capable of.

Mostly, Scott and Jackson don’t pay her much attention, unless, of course, she’s fucking one of their girls (even if they’re all each other’s, some of them belong to each other more. If that makes sense.)

Isaac always eyes her with a healthy dose of curiosity, fear and arousal which he doesn’t act on, will never act on unless he wants to lose a finger or two.

(The losing a finger thing actually happened once when someone had tried to roofie Stiles. Safe to say a finger wasn’t all they lost.)

Erica is the one who has most fun with Malia, Stiles thinks.

Unstoppable force meets unstoppable force and they just go at each other with growls and sharp teeth that leave marks hard enough to be noticeable for a couple of hours. It’s kind of beautiful to watch, like two hurricanes colliding and forming a bigger hurricane that could be the downfall of Mankind.

Throw Lydia in the mix and he’s sure the world wouldn’t stand a chance.

Which they sometimes do and it’s a terrible terrible thing, especially because Lydia (besides being another unstoppable all-consuming force) is a stabilizer.

Her little frame commands the kind of obedience that Erica and Malia never give up without a fight.

Boyd still doesn’t care, but it’s no secret that he has a soft spot for Malia, since he’s the one that always growls at anyone who tries to steal her food.

(Stiles doesn’t like to think about how he takes the big brother roll around her, or how he lost his own sister.)

Malia is fun to be with, someone who doesn’t kiss as much as she bites your lips and licks at them with a challenging glint in her eyes and perfect undulating hips.

Even though she has as much bite as she has bark, sometimes, just sometimes she’ll need to curl up around you and be protected from the world as much as she protects them.

«»

“I’m so, so sorry,” the girl splutters, immediately dropping down to start picking up their things that fell on the floor when they collided.

She’s blushing adorably and avoiding Stiles’ eyes, and he guesses everyone avoids his eyes when he’s this close, but there’s something about her that tells him she doesn’t know about them yet.

“Don’t worry, everything around me always turns to chaos anyway,” he tries to offer bending down and helping her pick up her things.

“I’m Kira,” she smiles nervously, quickly glancing at him and then averting her eyes. She’s beautiful with her black hair falling around her face perfectly, using it like Stiles wears layers – as a protection.

“Stiles,” he helps her up, makes sure everything is balanced properly, “you’re new right?”

She fumbles a little bit, “Uh, yeah. That obvious, uh?”

Stiles holds his hands up, stretches his fingers wide, noting with satisfaction how her eyes catch on them for a couple of seconds before shifting back to his face.

“Nah. Most people who’ve been here longer just don’t talk to me like that.”

Kira’s eyes widen, “Are you a criminal? I mean- There’s nothing wrong with being a criminal, actually there is but- what I mean is-“

Stiles snorts. He likes her. Maybe she could keep up with him.

“No. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Stiles feels the awareness that someone from his group is standing behind him, so he drops his hands to his sides and sure enough not three seconds later Malia jumps on his back, hooking her legs around his hips and biting his ear.

“We’re gonna be late for Economics.”

Stiles tries really hard to keep from laughing at Kira’s face. She actually has her mouth hanging open and her cheeks are a little redder than earlier, but then again that could be for Malia.

“Your girlfriend?” she asks awkwardly.

Stiles shrugs, which is not too easy with a coyote on his back.

“Not really. You have Economics next right?”

Kira jerks her head towards the little slip of paper and nods, turns suspicious impressed eyes towards Stiles.

“I saw it when you dropped it,” he explains.

“Oh, okay.”

Malia leans a little forward, sniffing the air obviously and almost making Stiles tip over and fall on his face. He adjusts her, using the movement to hide the admonishing pinch he gives her on the leg. They have talked about her obviousness before.

“I’ll carry your books,” Malia decides all of a sudden, dropping to the floor and snatching them off of Kira’s hands even though she’s trying to protest saying it’s okay, _really_.

“No use arguing with her. I should know,” he winks, which makes Kira look even more confused.

She’s adorable really, looks as much as a kind Disney princess as Allison does and he thinks if they ever decide to add on to the group Scott will immediately heart eyes all over her.

He needs to suppress a shudder at all the prospective grossness, cloyingly sweet bullshit he’d have to endure then.

«»

Allison joined them after The Great Biting Tragedy of Twenty-Eleven, and boy wasn’t that a shitshow.

He guesses, maybe he should feel bad about indirectly springing her on the Beacon Hills’ own supernatural freakshow, but then again he thinks that it would’ve happened sooner or later, with her family being an old hunter clan and all that.

Stiles considers, sometimes, when he gives himself the luxury to, that it was best this way. He doesn’t even want to think what kind of hunter and matriarch Allison could’ve become without actually seeing the supernatural world from both perspectives.

He’s kind of terrified of it actually. Allison, despite how being so brave and admittedly kickass she is, can easily be influenced by other’s people will. All you’d have to do is press the right buttons, turn the right gears and there she goes, half psychotic and turned into someone else’s too sharp little tool.

It was kind of a lost cause, though. Especially after two weeks of Scott and Isaac rubbing themselves all over Allison’s locker and the Argent house when the Argents were gone.

It was pretty pathetic really, if Stiles is being completely honest.

He’d like to point out that their little attraction made their lives quite hard (eh, _hard_ ) because, you know, hunters and werewolves aren’t exactly up for having a standing tea party every Sunday at three, much less to have one of their own, a hunter, screwing about with a bunch of werewolves.

It wasn’t anywhere near easy at the beginning and of course if it weren’t for Lydia, Scott and Isaac would probably still be whining pathetically after Allison or maybe even be in Mrs. Argent closet as her two new fur coats. That woman is _c-r-e-e-p-y._

Let it never be said that Lydia Martin doesn’t go after what she wants and _gets it_ all while looking fabulous and like she’s not even trying.

She had just leaned against a locker, declared that Allison was her new best friend and that they should hang out some time.

The rest had been done carefully, gradually. Exposing out-of-town girls to their particular life style wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, luckily for them Allison was more open minded than they ever expected anyone who moved to Beacon Hills would be.

It didn’t hurt that she was going through a bit of a teenage rebellion phase.

And, considering, it was amazing how well she got along with everyone.

Allison was in absolute dimpled love with Isaac and Scott, the three of them were basically molded specifically for each other, fitting perfectly and effortlessly together. It was mildly sickening.

Allison was an open minded girl, and since there were so many people that were a part of their group she liked to experiment a little bit with everyone.

With Lydia it was an effortless, natural connection that left behind fruity scented perfume and sticky lipstick stains.

Erica and Allison clashed a little too much, which, banter wise, could be fun, and sometimes culminated in aggressive, fun sex, but a little too much could also turn into a shouting match with bared teeth and sharp daggers coming out to play.

Malia didn’t exactly take too much to Allison for whatever reason, maybe because sometimes she would steal her Erica rough sex time.

For some miracle Allison could actually tolerate Jackson and they would have some fun, the kind of fun that Lydia had with Isaac and Scott which is to say not much, mostly hands over underwear and kissing. Which, don’t get him wrong, it can be _amazing too_.

Everyone in their group had always been kosher with the kissing.

Boyd was very kosher with the kissing, receiving and giving and mostly on the cheek or forehead. Boyd loved forehead kisses.

Allison would normally give him cheek kisses delivering with her own brand of sweetness and usually those happened when they were both in the kitchen trying something new while managing to prevent Stiles from blowing up his own house accidentally.

With Stiles it was effortlessly easy.

They were friends who had some fun and yes that included underwear off fun, mostly due to the stupid amount of underestimating everyone who met them implemented.

They both knew exactly what the other was capable of, they both knew just the special sweet brand of psychotic, overly protective that could be hidden by nice smiles and batting eyelashes and it was so much fun.

Their relationship had been kind of an easy thing.

The hard part in the very beginning, were the constant fights about the pros and cons of telling Allison about the furry problem some members of the group suffered from, because as their luck had it they weren’t just in a polyamorous relationship. They were _werewolves_ in a polyamorous relationship.

Ultimately they had decided that yes, they should tell her, and because really the universe must have something against them, they found out immediately afterwards that Allison’s family was made up of trigger happy hunters.

If Alpha Talia Hale hadn’t intervened while the Argents were chasing them through the woods with crossbows and bolts, he really doesn’t know if some of them would be here.

Hunters, as full of their righteousness as they were, really didn’t seem have any problems with shooting teenaged kids.

It _had_ turned out okay in the end when Chris Argent gave in, unwillingly and aggressively, and let his daughter do whatever she pleased.

The point was they loved Allison, all of them, and it had just helped them to learn that it was never too late to add some more people to the group.

«»

Kira is looking flushed and possibly like she’s imagining that this is what Heaven should be like.

Luckily, she had most of her classes with Stiles or Malia and the ones she didn’t have with neither of them she had with Scott, so it was only natural to drag her to their table during lunch where she had been plopped down between Scott’s dimpled smile and Malia’s considering one.

“Oh, who’s the cutie?” Erica asks, placing her tray next to Stiles’ and sitting down, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Erica Reyes, meet Kira Yukimura. Kira this is Erica.”

Kira waves nicely, cheeks dimpling. Erica smiles lewdly and winks.

“Do we like Kira?” she asks.

Stiles tilts his chin to where Malia is trying to eye-fuck Kira and then to where the dimpled trio are making sweet love eyeballs at her.

“I think we really like Kira.”

“Fun stuff,” Erica enthuses, stealing Stiles’ fruit.

“You do know that you’re allowed to get your own fruit right.”

Erica shrugs, unconcerned, “I also know you only bring fruit so I can steal it.”

Boyd calmly sits down next to her and passes over his banana.

“Opposite to Boyd. Boyd doesn’t make me work for it,” she grins.

Stiles raises an eyebrow, “You like working for it.”

“No, hon, I like making _you_ work for it.”

“So that’s your girlfriend?” Kira pipes in.

“Not really,” Erica and Stiles chorus.

Kira frowns, looking adorably confused and glancing at the others for a clear answer.

Erica keeps making suggestive faces at her, which are only contributing for the flush slowly crawling up her cheeks and spreading down her throat.

Isaac opens his mouth, probably to say something inappropriate and sarcastic, but something catches his attention at the other side of the room.

“Oh no,” he whispers, ducking his head and dropping his eyes.

Stiles turns slowly, watches Jackson walk in with Lydia on one arm and a tray of food in the other, and sit down at a table filled with their Lacrosse team without even glancing their way.

 _Shit_.

Stiles doesn’t even have time to turn and grab Erica before she’s already up and halfway across to Lydia’s table.

“Stiles,” Scott whispers, a little panicked.

“Uh, what’s going on?”

Malia shushes Kira, eyes narrowed into slits as she tries to probably make Lydia’s head explode by sheer force of will.

“Stiles!” Allison urges, pulling Isaac close as he whimpers.

“On it,” he mutters, getting up and rushing towards Erica.

“Well, look at what we’ve got here,” she sneers at Lydia and the rest of the group, “Did you decide you’re too good to sit with us, now?”

“Erica,” Lydia says calmly, placing her knife and fork down and looking imperiously up at her.

“I knew you’d crack,” Erica growls, “Perfect Lydia Martin. Tell me exactly what it took to break all your promises, to leave your best friends, to _conform_ -“

Stiles gets a hand around Erica’s arm and pulls her back, “Enough,” he whispers lowly, “You’re not doing yourself any favors by doing this right here right now.”

“I don’t fucking _care_ -“

“Erica.” It’s forceful, Stiles feels like he needs to be forceful with this, because it just wouldn’t do to have Erica sprouting claws and dropping her fangs in the middle of the canteen like this.

He changes his grip to her neck and Erica slumps against him, just like that, going from angry to miserable.

He sees Jackson’s nostrils flaring and then his whole body flinching when he catches a whiff of Erica’s misery.

“Lydia.”

“Stiles,” Lydia acknowledges, seeming a little more unsure, less composed then when Erica had firstly approached her.

“Jackson.”

Jackson can’t even look at him, eyes firmly fixed on the table.

Stiles sighs, adjusts his grip so he lets Erica turn and lean on him, practically hide her face in his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asks them.

“We’re done with you,” Lydia says without any inflexion.

Everyone at their table is watching avidly. Stiles would bet that the tables surrounding are watching too, anyone with even the slightest social interest must be watching, which is to say the entire student body of Beacon Hills’ High.

“Liar,” Erica mumbles.

Stiles nods in acknowledgment.

“We’re close to a full moon,” he lets his mouth curl up, his posture relax to one of carelessness, “and you know what they say about full moons, right.”

Lydia glances worriedly at Jackson.

“Brings out the crazy in people.”

Lydia squints, “Some people can control themselves. Not all of us are animals.”

Stiles gives her a flat look. “Some people need a big support group so they don’t do something they could regret,” Stiles returns, trying to convey as much meaning into his words as he possibly can, “Either way, I feel like this full moon will be a fun one.”

“We’ll see.”

That’s all the acknowledgment Stiles needs before he turns and walks away.

The rest of their pack is already next to the door, a very confused Kira left behind at the table.

“Can we go home now?”

Stiles shakes his head, “Not all of us can afford ditching class, we can skip twenty minutes of class, though.”

They all nod and immediately leave the school, heading for the woods surrounding it.

The wolves run and tackle each other for a while, keeping circling back to Stiles and laying down practically on him when they need comfort.

Erica and Malia seem to be in a competition to see how much wildlife they can maim.

“What do you think is up with Lydia?” Allison asks carefully, playing with a butterfly knife.

“We’ll fix it.”

“You can’t be su-“

Stiles kisses her reassuringly, “We’ll fix it.”

Allison quiets down a little, “Okay, I trust you.”

Isaac dodges Scott one last time before dropping on top of them and whining pitifully until Stiles starts scratching his scalp.

Boyd calmly sits down next to him, opening his arms so Malia can sit on him and be cuddled.

Scott gently kicks Stiles’ foot and does a complicated thing with his face that he and Stiles have been developing since kindergarten.

Stiles looks over and sees Cora standing at the edge of the woods and staring curiously at them, before she runs off.

“What was that about?” Scott asks, lifting Allison and sitting her on his lap so he can lean on Stiles.

Erica rips a tree by the root and throws it before going to pick it up and attempting to put it back in place. When she mildly succeeds she runs back to them and drops herself between Boyd and Stiles, squirming into the space like a cat and staying comfortably there.

“No idea,” Stiles mutters, turning to kiss Erica’s neck when she bares it to him.

«»

When school’s finally out not everyone can afford to come over to Stiles’.

Scott has work, Allison has hunter training, which will be perfect for them. Scott will take comfort in the puppies and small animals that somehow don’t feel frightened by the wolf and Ally gets to stab and shoot at things.

Stiles tried it a couple of times and he has to say that it’s an amazing stress reliever.

Isaac decides to go with Scott and Malia’s mom is already waiting for her in the car, a severe expression on her face as she tells her to just get in the car, that she should spend more time with her family instead of being a deviant.

“You’re not my real family,” Malia spits out, slamming the backseat door.

They’re not. You didn’t need a genius to figure that one out and the adoption papers she had found a couple months back helped too.

Boyd decides to go home and help his grandfather at the bakery. Punching dough is also a pretty good coping mechanism.

Erica is the only one that really can afford to go with him.

“Come on,” Stiles nudges her towards the Jeep.

Jackson and Lydia are already speeding off in their douchemobile.

“You’ll fix it, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles takes a deep breath, prays to whatever higher deity that there is that he’s not lying, “yeah.”

Erica slumps on her seat, “Okay.”

“I’ll let you wrestle his ass and everything when we get them back.”

“I can bite him?” Erica perks up.

“Sure.”

Stiles parks his car in the driveway, absently noting that his dad is still not home. He hasn’t been home much for a while.

Erica drapes herself over his back the second that they’re out of the car.

“Are we gonna have some fun?”

Stiles smirks, unlocks the door and leads her to the basement. It’s a true wonder to see how Erica’s face lights up when he pulls the toy box from under a bed.

“Dealer’s choice?”

He slides it towards her and Erica crouches down, popping the lid open.

She takes out a strap-on and wiggles her eyebrows, “You game?”

«»

Malia walks in an hour later, after Stiles had already managed to get cum all over himself and Erica has already taken her strap-on off to shove Stiles’ face between her thighs.

“I could hear her from upstairs,” Malia remarks, pulling her shirt off and shimmying out of her jeans.

Stiles lifts up, licks his lips and is glared at by Erica.

“Do something about it, then.”

Malia struts towards them licks Stiles’ lips and bends down to give Erica a filthy kiss.

“Back already?”

“Kid sister went to a sleepover and they started fighting so I jumped out of the window.”

Erica makes a frustrated noise and Stiles bites her thigh to shut her up.

“Stilinski!” she growls.

“I’m trying to have a conversation with Mal.”

“Ugh, talk later, orgasms now.”

Erica grabs Malia by the hips and pulls her closer, so she’s straddling her head and then she stops.

“Do you know what’s fun?”

Stiles leans against her thigh, “What’s fun?”

Erica taps on his shoulder for him to get off and sits up, reaching for the strap-on and waving it, “Daisy chains!”

“Oh!”

Malia steals the strap-on, “You already had your turn.”

Erica shrugs in a fair enough gesture.

Daisy chains are the _funnest_.

«»

His dad walks in the living room to see them half asleep on each other.

“Please tell me these girls’ parents know where they are.”

Stiles blinks guiltily at him.

“Stiles, I can’t have my son being accused of kidnapping. Again.”

“I texted my mom, she was cool with it,” Erica mumbles.

Malia shrugs carelessly.

The Sheriff sighs, “I’ll call Malia’s parents.”

“Thanks, Dad. Malia, say thanks to Dad.”

“Thanks to Dad,” Malia parrots, hiding her face under Stiles’ arm and squinting at the TV where a couple is talking about their collection of live sized dolls.

«»

Stiles drives Erica and Malia to school, passing through Boyd’s neighborhood to pick him up.

Boyd twists his nose at them and passes around a paper bag full of pastries.

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Stiles says happily, tacking out the messiest thing his fingers can reach and shoving it in his mouth.

Everyone in the car goes very still.

“You weren’t lying,” Malia says slowly, sounding mildly offended.

“You’re all my favorite in your own little special snowflake way.”

Erica and Mal relax.

Stiles snorts, “You’re ridiculous.”

«»

Lydia and Jackson are flanking Kira at school, leaning over and talking. They’ve basically pushed the poor girl against a wall and are tag-teaming her.

Malia starts growling lowly in her throat.

“For fuck’s sake,” Erica explodes.

“Boyd, don’t let them leave the car, I’ll deal with that.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Stilinski.”

Stiles gives her a flat look, “Sure, do whatever you want. Be shot by the Argents.” Erica flinches, slumps against Boyd with a pout, “Come on, Er, you know you can’t control yourself when you’re mad. Let me handle this.”

“ _Fine_.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles hops off the car, glancing worriedly at Malia, who’s still growling, the only thing keeping her in check is Boyd’s hand on her neck.

Jackson hears him before he’s close enough to be at a socially acceptable distance to talk.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Stiles mutters under his breath, watches Jackson jerk and take a step towards him.

Lydia places a hand on his arm, shakes her head.

Thankfully they have the decency to wait until he gets there instead of running off.

“Morning.”

“Stiles,” Lydia acknowledges, swaying in place like she’s about to step forward and kiss his cheek like she normally does before she stops herself and looks around.

“Hey, Kira,” he grins.

Kira wide eyes him, cheeks at least five different shades of red. She ducks her head to avoid his eyes.

“Hi, hey, uh hello. I- I need to go. To class. Which is not here. Bye,” she waves awkwardly, trips a little over herself on her haste to get away.

Stiles frowns after her, “Malia really likes her you know,” he says conversationally. “I had to get Boyd to hold her so she wouldn’t possibly rip out your throat.”

“Stiles, pay attention to what I’m about to say,” Lydia demands, locking their eyes together, “We _can’t be seen with you anymore_.  We’re done with you and your depraved ways,” she sounds like a monotone talking, like a practice speech and one that Lydia didn’t come up with herself, “and regardless of what you think we’re actually _trying to help_.”

There are a couple of teenagers loitering around, looking on avidly. High school drama is as effective as honey to attract flies and equally as sticky and messy.

“So you _can’t_ be seen with us and you’re trying to help,” he says slowly.

She _can’t._ It’s not that they _doesn’t want to_.

Stiles rolls his shoulders, nods slightly so Lydia can see that he understood.

“Well fuck you too and your doucheass boyfriend! You were always too rich blood for us lowly sluts weren’t you.”

Lydia’s lips twitch. Jackson seems to relax when he listens to the trip of Stiles’ heartbeat indicating what a filthy liar he is.

“Forget about us, Stiles. You were a fun fuck but we’re tired. You just lost all that sparkle.”

“I’ll tell you where you can shove that sparkle.”

Lydia flips her hair and starts tugging a mock-sneering Jackson away, “We’re _done_ with you. Get this in your stupid brain.”

Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets and watches as some jocks approach him, the school’s own bitch girl club leans over to gossip with Lydia.

Not three minutes after Lydia and Jackson disappearing inside the school Stiles finds himself surrounded by pretty much everyone else in different stages of outrage. Boyd is the only one who looks chill.

Good old reliable Boyd.

“If you would shut up, we could start thinking about why someone is forcing Lydia’s and Jackson’s hand and how we’re going to fix it.”

“What?” at least three of them pipe up.

“She said they couldn’t, not that they didn’t want to.”

Everyone quiets down, digesting that.

“They’ve had a lot of family dinners with the Whittemores,” Boyd says calmly.

“Jackson’s dad has been back in town,” Allison agrees.

“And we all now he’s a major dick,” Erica snarks.

Stiles smirks at them, “Mystery solved, now let’s see how we can get them back.”

«»

Kira isn’t so much avoiding them as she is making stealthy escapes like some kind of ninja and glancing curiously at them.

“She smells… thoughtful,” Erica tilts her head and states, “No disgust or anything.”

Stiles bumps their shoulders together as they walk to their next class, “I think she’s curious.”

“Do you think she’ll come to us?” Isaac pipes in, carrying Malia around on his back.

Malia loses the ability to walk when she’s sad, so she just makes everyone carry her.

“Possibly.”

Malia snuffles into Isaac’s neck but seems to perk up some.

Boyd runs his fingers through Stiles’ arm and makes a head nod towards something at the end of the hall.

Lydia is leaning close to Cora with a smirk while Cora smirks a little feral-y right back.

“It’s gonna be a fun full moon,” Erica says cheerfully.

«»

“What’s that face?”

Stiles sits in the center of his room with a chaos of papers strewn around him.

“What face?” he asks innocently.

“I know that face, Stiles. I used to see it all the time on your mother when she was about to do something illegal.”

“Chill Dad, I’m not going to do anything illegal. Much.”

The Sheriff opens his mouth, probably to scold him, but of course that’s the moment Cora Hale chooses to back flip through his open window and land gracefully with a casual, “’Stilinski.”

Dad looks between them for a moment before throwing his hands up in the air, “You know what, I don’t even want to know. Leave the door open, I’m getting pizza.”

“Dad you shouldn’t-“

“I _deserve this pizza,_ ” his dad says aggressively.

“Okay. But get some veggies on it!”

Cora looks at him curiously, cocks her head, “He’s getting pineapples,” she says making a face.

Stiles almost gasps in indignation, “I’m disowning you,” he shouts, which gets him no answer because his Dad is a sneaky little bastard.

Stiles sighs dramatically and turns to the Hale just chilling on his chair, with the grace and comfortableness of breaking into houses that all Hales seem to possess.

He still remembered the good times just after The Great Bite Tragedy of Twenty-Eleven when there were Hales jumping through his window left and right.

“So, what can I do for you? I’m kinda busy planning the downfall of an important lawyer.”

Cora lifts an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Why do you think you can do anything for me?”

Stiles shrugs, “You’re the one who backflipped through my window like it’s going out of style. What is it little Hale, wanna be part of our little group?”

“Why would I want to be part of the slut club?”

“Is that what people are calling us? I like that, I’m keeping it.”

Stiles contemplates the papers in front of him, decides to ball Plans C and H up and throw them into the trashcan across the room.

“What are you even doing?”

“I told you. Planning the downfall of an important lawyer.”

“Why?”

“He’s trying to fuck with my friends,” he says distractedly, “Wanna help?”

“Do I want to help the Sheriff’s son plot something possibly illegal,” she deadpans. She’s better at it than Laura. Stiles is very impressed.

“Whatever. Can you at least do me a favor and give this to Lydia Martin?” He throws a phone at her, which she catches midair effortlessly and then frowns down at.

“What’s this?”

“Burner phone.”

“How did you get this?”

“The way anyone can get a burner phone.”

Cora waits for him to elaborate; Stiles shrugs and decides that Plan A needs to go too. He can’t find sulfuric acid in such short notice.

“What do I get in return?”

“I’ll answer all your questions.”

Cora flashes her eyes and drops her fangs, “I think you’d answer all my questions either way.”

“That would’ve scared me if I didn’t run interference between a bunch of werewolves and society.”

Cora huffs petulantly and aggressively shoves the phone into her pocket. “ _Fine._ But you’ll answer every question. Every single one.”

“I’ll answer twenty questions.”

“Is this a game to you?”

“Yup, I was getting bored and everything. Great timing, Hale.”

She squints at him but seems to give up on trying to change his mind.

“Are you pack?”

“Yeah, I’d say we are.”

“Who’s the Alpha then?”

“There isn’t one. This is an anarchic democracy,” he grins.

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

Cora sighs, completely done with Stiles’ antics it seems.

“Is it about sex?”

“No.”

“What is it about then?”

Stiles leans back against his bed, “Love.”

Cora rolls her eyes in a way that looks painful.

“It’s not about the sex,” he insists, “we were friends even before sex was a thing we could understand. It’s about- we’re _friends_ and we love each other and it’s just easier.”

“Easier?”

Stiles sighs, tips his head back to lean on the mattress, “Do you know how much stress it is to have a boyfriend? You have to _find someone_ and then there are stupid petty fights and jealousy, there’s the uncertainty if you’re really meant to be if it’s worth it, the possibility you’re not sexually compatible. Right Erica?”

Erica’s head appears upside down at his window.

Cora startles, or does the closest that a Hale does to startling which is raise both eyebrows in surprise and glare.

“And we _are_ sexually compatible,” she winks, still upside down, “in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

Erica laughs, “Liar.”

Stiles smirks, “Come on Catwoman, get in before the neighbors see you and call the cops. Again.”

Erica hisses at him playfully and gracefully jumps through the window into Stiles’ room.

“Planning to fuck shit up?” she questions, fingering Plan F.

“Yup.”

“Cool, what can I do?”

“Don’t worry about it, I got Cora to do it.”

Erica throws herself down on Stiles’ bed and drops a kiss on his cheek.

“Right. Little Hale is here, wanting to be part of the Slut Club.”

Cora growls and Erica bares her teeth dangerously, Stiles doesn’t even need to look to see that she’s doing it.

“You’re supposed to answer my questions.”

“You know it’s okay to want to try it out, right?” he tilts his hand, lets Erica run her fingernails up the side of his neck, leaving raised red marks. Stiles bruises like a peach, always has always will.

Cora focuses on that one point of contact and swallows. Erica makes a little delighted noise.

“We’re from different packs.”

Stiles licks his lips, eyes Cora up and down, “Your mom has been requesting an open line of communication to make sure we’re not fucking up.”

Cora shifts, like she’s a little uncomfortable, eyes the window warily, “I don’t- I don’t feel attracted to Scott. Or Jackson.”

Erica grins, “Neither of us taps Scott. Or Jacskon. Well, Stiles sometimes does.”

Cora frowns.

Stiles sighs, “This isn’t free for all. You fuck who you wanna fuck, you hang out with who you like best. As long as you don’t hate on anyone we’re cool. This is a hate free zone. Everyone likes everyone and sometimes they fuck. Simple as that.”

“What if the others don’t like me?”

“Oh they will,” Erica purrs.

Cora sways between accepting and bolting out the window. Stiles can practically read the indecision in the sharp slant of her eyebrows.

“What about a little test drive?” he suggests casually. “If you like it you like it, if you don’t you don’t. No harm done,” he holds his hands up.

“I knew I did well in coming.”

Cora seems to ponder it before giving a nod and stripping her jacket.

“Whoa, hey I didn’t mean right _now_.”

“Why not,” Erica pouts, sitting up and start taking her clothes off too, “right now seems great.”

“I have to be home by seven and tomorrow is the full moon,” Cora reasons in her non-nonsense Hale way.

Stiles sighs and strips off his hoodie.

“Fine, but we should go downstairs.”

“To your sex torture dungeon?” Cora lifts an eyebrow and smirks.

“What kind of movies have you been watching?”

“And where can I find them?” Erica butts in, helping Stiles up to his feet and wiggling her fingers towards Cora, who after a moment of consideration takes them and lets herself be led downstairs.

“Stiles.”

The Sheriff’s voice stops them as they pass through the kitchen archway, “Who’s that?”

“Um, this is Cora.”

The Sheriff frowns, and sighs, resigned, “Haven’t I told you to stop bringing home strays?”

Cora bristles and bares her teeth. Stiles pinches her arm to make her stop.

“Come on, Dad. She’s not a stray. She’s a Hale with a proper family name and everything.”

Dad sighs harder, “More werewolves? Really Stiles, haven’t we had a talk about that? And Erica, good to see you. You do know we have a front door, right?”

Erica sniffs, “Front doors are for wusses.”

“Do you ever even go home?”

Erica shrugs, “Not really.”

“Right,” his Dad picks up another slice of pizza and looks at it as if the secrets to Stiles’ antics are in the tomato sauce, “just don’t break anything or do anything illegal please.”

“Alright, Daddy-o, no need to worry.”

Dad shoos them with a hand motion, and Stiles makes sure to pull both girls out of there and into the basement.

Cora stands in the middle of the basement looking around critically and more than a little tense, “Alright let’s do this.”

Erica and Stiles trade a look, shaking their heads a little.

“Or we could just play video games and make out,” he suggests.

Cora’s shoulders become less tense, “Not about sex right.”

“All the love,” he grins at her, heading for the Wii and setting up Mario Kart.

“I’m gonna kick both your asses,” she states simply.

“Keep dreaming, Hale,” Erica sneers playfully, stealing her favorite remote.

“Erica kicks our collective ass,” he shares, settling on the couch between the two of them, because he’s a pacifist at heart and will stop a civil war over Mario Kart from happening like it always almost does every time Erica decides to play.

Little it surprises Stiles that Cora is really good at it. Like _really really_ good, but she’s also a dirty dirty cheater who cheats.

After they tie again, Erica having won the first and third games and Cora the second and forth, they start elbowing and from elbowing it escalates to pinching and licking and kissing until the remotes lay forgotten on the floor and they’re just a messy ball of lips on lips kissing biting and licking.

Cora gives Stiles a hickey on the side of the neck while he kisses Erica breathless or tries his best to and yeah, he thinks she’ll fit right in.

«»

Stiles goes to his English teacher, who’s always been too nice for her own good, and tells her that he’s waiting for a phone call because a family member is in the hospital in critical condition and he might need to run out.

She pats his shoulder and gives him kind eyes before saying that it’s completely fine and that she hopes his family member gets better soon.

Stiles gives her his best impersonation of Scott’s sad eyes and plumps down on his seat. He only breaks his faux mood to look back and briefly wink at Kira who’s been worriedly stealing glances at him.

At fifteen to four he simulates a phone call and looks properly horrified by the fake news before begging to leave.

English teacher lets him go immediately, saying she’ll excuse him for the rest of the day.

Stiles quickly gathers his shit and heads for Allison’s and Erica’s classes, inventing some family emergency for them to get them off school. He makes sure to lock eyes with Jackson and Lydia who are in the same class as Erica and give them a reassuring, confident smile.

Erica jumps on his back eagerly, “Are we gonna fuck shit up _now_?”

“You know I should really be worried about how much you like committing illegal activities.”

Erica sniffs, “As if you’re not leaking anticipation and contentment everywhere.”

Allison twirls her dagger, “She does have a point.”

«»

“Hi, Mr. Whittemore,” he says pleasantly, “would you be interested in some Girl Scout cookies?”

Mr. Whittermore offers them the sneer he normally reserves for Stiles, “I don’t know what this is about, but if you don’t get off my property I’ll call the police.”

Stiles looks at Erica who immediately snatches the phone Mr. Douchemore was threatening them with. She crushes it in her hand letting the little plastic bits, glass and other components rain down on the floor like technological confetti.

“It’s adorable that you think this was a question,” he grins, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully shoving him back in the house.

Mr. Whittemore looks horrified, like a gazelle in that split second it realizes it’s surrounded by starving lions.

“And need I remind you Mr. Whittemore. My Dad _is_ the police.”

He hears the door close behind him with finality, just as Mr. Whittemore thinks about making a break for it.

Erica, quick as her werewolf powers make her, circles around and stop him in his tracks, lips stretched wide in a thing that could pass for a smile if she wasn’t letting her fangs drop the littlest bit.

“So,” Stiles starts, heading for the couch and plopping himself down on it, “I heard you’ve been blackmailing your son away from us.”

Erica leads him to the uncomfortable armchair across from Stiles and forces him down on it, claws flicking in and out just next to his head. Allison calmly sits down on the couch next to Stiles and starts playing with her dagger, flicking it around experimentally and dimpling at Mr. Whittemore.

“I think we should have a little talk about that,” he tells him, “and Mr. Whittemore, it’s good for you to remind yourself that I have friends that look much stronger than either of them,” he says, gesturing loosely towards the girls, “and still I chose them to intimidate you. If that doesn’t tell you something about the kind of situation you find yourself in, then you’re even stupider than I firstly thought.”

Douchemore Senior breaks out into a sweat, his throat clicks, “You can’t do this.”

Stiles grins, lets it turn it into something a little deranged.

“Oh, but I _can_. Now, about threatening to disown your own son if he doesn’t break things off with us.”

Allison shakes a little cloth out and starts cleaning the blade, eyes focused on the squirming man.

“I think we should have a long, long talk about it, and you should really consider changing your mind.”

Erica grabs both of his shoulders to keep him down, claws in full display and keeping him in place and terrified.

“Really, it’s in your best interest to.”

Mr. Whitemore is shaking and by the way Erica is twitching her nose, probably peeing himself.

“Yeah, anything. Anything, just don’t kill me please.”

If there’s something Stiles has learned is that, powerful men are sheltered men and sheltered men are _afraid_.

«»

Stiles drives them back to school just in time to pick the others up. It _is_ a full moon later on, so they’re scheduled to pick up as many snacks as their cars can handle and go frolic in the little piece of woods that the Hales lend them once a month.

“There’s one more thing that I have to go take of,” he tells them, hoping off the Jeep.

“Need help?”

“Nah, I got this one,” he says waiving some papers that they made Mr. Douchemore sign.

Stiles strides to a beat up car, inconspicuously parked at the back of the parking lot where no one will really notice if someone sits there all day, watching.

He raps on the window, waits patiently until the man inside lowers his glass.

“Hi, my name’s Stiles Stilinski,” he starts pleasantly, watches the man startle, eyes going wide, “yeah you’ve probably heard of me. Sheriff’s son, just threatened your boss into stop being a dickbag.”

“I-“

Stiles holds up a hand to stop him from talking, “Now this,” he says passing the man a sheet of paper, “is the document where Mr. Whittemore confesses into paying someone to stalk his underage son without his consent. These are pictures of you doing said stalking- you should really work on that, buddy. And this is the wad of cash he owes you.”

Stiles passes all of it through the window, watching as the man fumbles to take.

“Now, if you hightail it out of here, I won’t call my dad and get your ass arrested and before you ask, yes, I do have copies of all of those,” he leans back from the car and grins, “Have a nice day.”

Stiles barely has time to step on the sidewalk before the man is speeding out of there.

He huffs, “Ugh, Whittemores.”

He’s so happy that summer vacation is almost here. Maybe he’ll have time to relax instead of putting up with all this bullshit.

«»

The Hales let them frolic around in their territory since _technically_ Mamma Hale is their Alpha.

They offered them this little clearing at the edge of their property, a ways into the woods, where if someone goes on a sudden murder spree it’s easy to track down and solve the problem with a couple of snarls and growls.

Stiles dragged (read: stole from the local park) a picnic table and set it up in the middle where he can just sit and watch the wolves being wolves and tackle each other until they’re full of mud and panting. He normally also brings pool lounge chairs and a shitton of blankets and of course _food_. So much food it’s kind of ridiculous.

Another thing that they can’t have too much off is a change of clothes.

Erica has already lost her shirt and bra and Stiles can see her shoes up on a tree. The only people who still even have a shirt on really are Boyd and Lyds and Ally who sadly don’t participate in the naked frolicking.

Well, it is a full moon and everyone goes a little wild, and sometimes that means outdoor sex and sometimes that means eating fifteen buckets of chicken wings (he’s forever impressed Malia managed that).

“Come on guys, behave!” Stiles calls out, “the Hales are going to pay us a visit, you can frolic after they leave.”

“Shut up, Stilinski,” Jackson growls at him, tugging on his hair to expose his throat and burying his face there.

Stiles flicks his ear, completely gives up on getting any kind of order in here when Erica comes behind him and starts leaving open mouthed kisses and teasing bites across his shoulder blades.

Jackson starts sucking a mean hickey on his neck that makes him sigh and tip his head back.

“Careful with the fangs, bud.”

“Not your bud,” Jacks rumbles.

Stiles snorts and scratches his scalp, lets his hand slide down to his shoulder and making his fingers feather light as they skate down his torso to the line of his jeans and up again to flick a nipple just for fun.

Erica growls a little at being neglected and Stiles turns his head, catches her lips and lets her bite at his.

“I see you’re keeping yourself entertained, Mr. Stilinski.”

And _of course_ Alpha Hale would chose now to arrive.

Stiles sighs and taps Jackson’s neck, gets off his lap and strides towards the Alpha.

Erica falls naturally to his right as Allison takes his left.

The pack seems to quiet down, stop what they’re doing to hang around Stiles and the Alpha.

“Gotta keep ‘em entertained,” he says cheekily, “after all, we don’t want to upset you with more ripped trees.”

Talia raises an eyebrow, “You ripped out a piece of my land and used it as baseball bats.”

Stiles shrugs, “And I apologized for that.”

There’s a snort from Talia’s left and Stiles lets his eyes drift to acknowledge her entourage.

Peter Hale on her left with Cora hanging a little uncomfortably behind him and Laura Hale to her right with Derek a little behind.

“Hey!” he says happily, “You didn’t tell me Uncle Creepy and Laura and Derek were back.”

“I wasn’t aware I was obliged to.”

Stiles sighs, leans back a little into Boyd’s chest, a solid support at his back, just like always.

“It’s good to know the werewolf population in town so there’s no misunderstandings. Anyways, you’re not here to talk about Laura and Derek so let’s get down to business.”

Stiles can hear at least three members of his pack humming the intro to _I’ll Make a Man Out of You_.

He presses down on his snort.

“Are you planning on wearing a shirt for this?”

Stiles offers a grin, tries not to think about how stupid he is in teasing an Alpha, “I like to think of us as friends, Alpha Hale. And I’m doing it in solidarity towards my pack. I’m pretty sure most of them have lost their clothes _somewhere_ already.”

Talia presses her lips together somewhere between apprehensive and amused. Laura is outright hiding her smile behind her hand and Uncle Creepy is just _being creepy_ and eyeing Stiles like he’s the last beef at the butcher’s.

Jackson shifts restlessly towards him and Stiles sighs, decides to plop himself down on the floor with his legs crossed and tugging Jacks down with him, one hand on the back of his neck and squeezing to make him stop shifting.

Everyone in his pack follows his lead and just plop down on the soft grass, leaning against each other and for fuck’s sake are Isaac and Scott making out right now?

Stiles pretends there’s no sexual overtures happening and gestures to the grass in front of him, “Please be my guest.”

Alpha Talia considers him for a moment, before deciding to sit down opposite to him, her little entourage following suit.

“If I were you I’d check your self-preservation instincts. They seem to be lacking.”

Stiles snorts a laugh, shares an amused look with her, “Trust me I know. Pretty sure they’ve been shot to hell since I met a borderline rogue coyote and decided it would be a _great_ idea to try and teach her control on my own.”

“Worked fine,” Malia interjects around a mouthful of fangs and methodically skinning an apple with her claws.

Talia raises an eyebrow at them. God the Hale eyebrow game is so strong, it’s honestly one of Stiles’ life goals to have an eyebrow game that good.

“It came to my attention that you want my permission for my daughter to,” she twists her mouth, “ _hang out_ with you.”

Erica snorts by his side and Stiles quickly shushes her with a gentle press of fingertips to her jaw.

“You’re the one who’s been insisting about an open and direct line of permanent communication about what we’re up to. Besides, there’s really no one safer for your daughter to _hang out_ with than us, if you think about it.”

There’s a growl to his right and he turns to see Derek flashing his baby blues at him for a moment.

Stiles raises both eyebrows at him. He’d be stupid to provoke the brother of the girl he might or might not defile later.

He winks lasciviously at Derek anyway and makes him get a constipated look which seems to be his default expression.

“I don’t know if I approve of-“

“Oh please, like she doesn’t know full well what she’d be getting into,” Erica interjects.

Alpha Hale flashes her eyes at her, making Erica flinch a little but not look that much ashamed or even scared.

Stiles reaches out and grabs at the back of her neck, keeps a hand there and feels Erica go boneless under it, face twisting so she’s ever so slightly baring her neck to him.

The Hales track him with avid eyes, a little frown marring most of their faces, “Well, seems I’ve underestimated you, Alpha Stilinski.”

Stiles startles, “What? I’m not the Alpha, I’m not even a werewolf.”

“A human Alpha,” Peter leans forward, interested, “aren’t you a curious little thing,” he remarks.

“I’m not the Alpha,” he insists.

Talia pointedly looks at where he has one hand on Jackson and the other on Erica, calming them down without even really trying.

“It’s rare,” she points out, “but it’d explain how your little pack hasn’t gone on a murder spree.”

“Hey,” Stiles says indignantly, offended on their behalf.

Malia offers a piece of apple to Erica and another to Stiles, before settling in against Lydia’s side.

Boyd places the flower crown he’s been working on top of Stiles’ head.

Laura coos at them, “Look how sweet they are on you.”

Jackson leans a little more fully against Stiles’ side, covering him as much as he can.

“He went through withdrawal,” he explains it away, “Dick parents, but of course you wouldn’t know anything about it, right. Having as awesome of parents as you do.”

Talia does give him a little amused smile, shaking her head slightly.

“You’re certainly never boring, Alpha Stilinski.”

“Not the Alpha,” he reminds her, “this isn’t a hierarchy.”

“What is it then? Socialism?”

They snort, “The closest to it yeah.”

“If we could get back to the point,” Alpha Hale urges, “I have a pack to get back to before they destroy half the preserve.”

“Agreed.”

“You want permission for my daughter to participate in your little activities.”

“Yup.”

“And why do you want her?”

Stiles eyes Cora, who in turn is avidly watching something behind his back, probably someone making out, he’s not expecting anyone but the people in his sight to be behaving.

“Cora approached us. We like her. If she wants to try it out then sure. If it works it works, if it doesn’t then we’ll call it a day and go home.”

“You should think ahead, Alpha Hale. College is closer than it seems and it’d be great for Cora to have a support system with her, since I doubt she’s straying far from home like Laura and Derek did,” Lydia contributes, and Stiles turns to give her a proud smile, suppressing the need to coo when he sees her gently petting Malia’s hair as Ally braids hers.

Talia seems to take a couple of minutes to consider before she slowly nods her head, “Alright, I give you permission, but if you-“

“Hurt her we’ll have our hearts torn out of our chest and stomped on before you make us eat them. Trust me, we wouldn’t willingly hurt anyone in the group. None of us would.”

“As long as we’re clear on that.”

“Perfectly so, and I’d like to request Cora’s integration in our group to start immediately.”

Talia raises an eyebrow, “You think you can handle a Hale during a full moon?”

Stiles quirks his lips, “Nothing like trying, right.”

Talia raises her eyebrows but nods her head, allowing it.

The Hales leave quietly, but just as fabulously as they had arrived, leaving Cora behind who sensibly waits for them to be out of hearing range before letting Erica tackle her down to the floor and participate in some very athletic lesbian sex.

Stiles cranes his neck, a little impressed with the position they’re maintaining.

Jackson rumbles next to him and rolls both of them over, so he’s easily straddling Stiles and then proceeding to kiss him sloppy and reaffirming, trailing down to lick at his neck, bite his own bruise there to add to Stiles’ collection.

It’s truly ridiculous how many hickeys and little marks Stiles carries all over his body, each one from a different member of the pack as a claim on him.

Most of them can’t sustain bruises for more than a couple of seconds which is a damn shame but still he’s happy with it. With the little piece of them he gets to have and the complete sense of belonging.

Erica was right. This is a fun full moon and he has a feeling it’s only about to get funner.

«»

So, that’s how Cora Hale gets to be in their little cult of dark magic and sex, if the students of Beacon Hills’ High are to be trusted.

If the rumors going around school are to be believed they lured her in with brain washing and by performing illegal sexual things on her.

Cora is a Hale and from every single experience Stiles has ever had Hales are fiery little things. Bite as vicious as the game that they talk. If a Hale promises a thing you can damn well be sure they’ll deliver and if that thing is a threat on your life then buddy you better get the hell out of Dodge.

Cora in particular is armed with a twisted little humor that Erica and Stiles and sometimes Lydia can appreciate, a self-assurance that seems to run in the family and a biting sarcasm that sometimes hits too close to home.

She and Malia take to each other like a wonder, becoming fast friends although they never fuck, something about the thought makes both of them twist their noses a little. Stiles has an idea of what it might be, but he thinks it’s best to keep quiet for now.

Cora doesn’t really take to Jackson too well, not handling his brand of asshole like Stiles can although she seems to counter Stiles’ brand of asshole with her own brand of being a dick just fine.

Erica and Lydia get to have a lot of fun with her, even if Lydia and Jackson as of late are more for the social aspect of the group than the sexual one, but that’s fine too ‘cause this was never about the sex.

Scott continues to be too in love with Isaac and Allison and now maybe perhaps Kira to really pay her attention.

Allison and Isaac seem curious, they like trying, experimenting, testing limits, teasing and flirting, hands under shirts and dimpled filthy smiles.

Boyd takes her brash personality in stride and is almost as sweet on her as he is on Malia, having quiet talks and little inside jokes that some of them don’t get but go along with because everyone loves them.

Cora adapts to his pack like she was always supposed to belong with them and it’s one of the best things that’s happened to them, to be honest.

Also it doesn’t hurt that the knowledge she brings about werewolves and the supernatural practically make Lydia and Stiles cream their pants and they gain access to the Hales’ personal library.

She fits right in, and they start to love her without even making a conscious decision to, but that seems all fine because Cora doesn’t seem in a rush to leave them in the least.

«»

They’re happy since Cora joined, really happy. The only way they could be happier was if Kira would woman up and talk to them.

“Maybe we should talk to her,” Erica states, swirling a lock of Cora’s hair between her fingers while Cora is trying to have a serious argument with Boyd about- trees? Yup they are talking about trees, the dorks.

“We don’t want to pressure he- Malia. Mal!” he calls after her, has half a mind to get up and follow but ends up shrugging and letting fate takes its course.

Que será, será and all that.

Boyd and Cora quiet down watching the scene.

The werewolves can probably hear what’s being said which puts them at an unfair advantage when Boyd says, “Wanna take bets?”

They take bets.

Stiles ends up twenty bucks richer when Malia comes back to their table with a smug little smile and clutching a blushing Kira’s hand as she tugs her forward.

“She wants to know more,” Malia announces, pushing Isaac over so Scott who’s sitting at the edge of the table almost falls over and settling herself and Kira in the sits at Stiles’ right.

Stiles turns to her and gives her a brilliant smile, “Welcome to the dark side.”

“We have cookies,” Erica says in a nice cheery voice.

“And blowies,” Isaac adds absently, too busy staring dreamily at Allison and Scott.

“It’s a fun place here,” Cora nods.

Kira is still blushing and Stiles would just bet if he was a werewolf he could hear her heartbeat go absolutely crazy in her ribcage.

Scott trades a look with Allison before they both dimple at her making her stutter. It’s the most adorable thing ever.

“Would you like to sign up for a free trial? Terms and conditions include make outs with whomever you like best, mandatory attendance to movie marathons and being minimally civil. Also a very very open mind.”

“Okay,” Kira says quietly, giving them a shy grin that makes her look three times more gorgeous.

Scott fistpumps, Malia leans closer to her and very unsubtly sniffs her hair.

“Awesome,” he grins, “say Kira how do you feel about a werewolf movie marathon?”

She twists her nose a little, “They’re hilariously innacurate.”

The table goes still for a minute.

“You know,” Lydia states.

Kira shrugs, twirls the thing that’s trying to pass for spaghetti on her plate, “You guys aren’t very subtle.”

Stiles sighs, turns so he can drop his head on Boyd’s shoulder, “We’re working on it.”

“Also, I’m a kitsune.”

“Of _course_ you are. Everyone I meet is a secret creature of the night.”

“I’m not,” Allison pipes up.

“Ally babe, you hunt creatures of the night.”

“Point,” she concedes with a smile.

Kira’s still smiling looking quietly happy.

«»

Turns out that Kira fits perfectly in their group as well invariably ending up with Malia and Scott and Allison who just seem to be absolutely captivated by her.

It’s gross to watch; adorably cute and full of dimples.

Stiles is pretty sure he has enough dimpled smiles concentrated in his basement that he could cure cancer by now.

Kira is sweet with a little dark twisted humor and a penchant to trip. She fits effortlessly right in. They were lacking some sweet in their group, because although Scott is sweet he’s also a little clueless and although Allison is sweet she’s also a little bit psychotic and although Isaac can be sweet he’s a little bit of a douchebag. Everyone else is just an asshole.

Kira is sweet like those lollipops that have a surprisingly bitter but still amazing center.

«»

The Sheriff walks into his home to see ten teenagers plus his son sitting around outside, passing food around and talking, relaxed.

“Son,” he starts, eyeing the teenagers in his yard, “are you sure you’re not starting a cult?”

Stiles snorts, “Pretty sure, dad. Although I _could_ , theoretically.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. Who’s that?” he looks over at Kira currently leaning between Scott and Allison and making a flower crown.

“Oh, that’s Kira Yukimura.”

“Uh. When did that happen?”

Stiles shrugs, “Like, a week ago.”

The Sheriff sighs, running a hand over his face, “Just- be safe and make sure everyone’s parents know where their kids are. If anyone ends up pregnant I’ll wring your damn neck, kid.”

“We’re not idiots.”

“You better not be,” he threatens lightly, “I’m ordering ten large pizzas, your cult can stay for dinner.”

“Not a cult, Dad.”

“I’m offended it’s not _my_ cult,” Lydia sniffs primly, inspecting her nails.

“If it were your cult, Miss Martin, you’d already have overthrown the Beacon Hills’ mayor.”

Lydia smiles, pleased, “True.”

The Sheriff smiles kindly at them, “Alright, Dinner should be here in thirty, call your parents.”

“Yes, Mr. Stilinski,” they chorus.

The Sheriff nods, satisfied and leaves to order some pizza.

“If you get pineapple on any of them I’ll disown you!” Stiles warns loudly.

The Sheriff gets pineapple on three of them.

«»

It’s not perfect. Nothing is perfect, there is no such thing as perfect. But, for them it’s _good_.

It’s love multiplied by ten people and if that’s not one of the most near-perfect things there is then Stiles doesn’t really know what would be.

They have their ups and downs, sure. They have their highs and their lows and their normal just like any other people in relationships would have.

The thing about this particular relationship though, is that the lows are worked through together, conflict is resolved quickly because of the amazing support group they have.

Bottom line, it’s a polyamorous affair. They all love each other and they all want to be with each other even if they’re young and inherently stupid and reckless.

It might not last forever, it probably won’t. Or maybe it will and they’ll beat statistics’ ass.

Stiles saw a movie once. It was late and he was bored and a little sex stupid, feeling warm and nice between his friends, his _pack_. It was a terrible movie passing late at night on Lifetime.

He recalls it sometimes, gets irrationally mad about it like Lydia gets irrationally mad about the library of Alexandria.

He prefers not to think about it if he’s honest, since it was a clear backhand compliment at poly, showing it as something unhealthy and twisted. Something rotten inside.

It was a terrible representation of what poly is supposed to be and he’s not even getting into how stupid the plotline was or how it was so incredibly senseless.

His point is: poly relationships are about people who have the capacity to love more than one person at the time, it’s about compromise and experiencing and trust. He’s not saying that necessarily everyone in the pack loves each other in the same level, but they do love each other one way or another. Even the ones that can barely stand each other love each other, learn how to and develop the sort of friendship that will last a lifetime.

He’s not even saying that they’re the model for poly, he’s not affirming that he has any ground to stand on and be the authority on it. Maybe he’s just spewing bullshit for the sake of justifying himself, maybe he’s got what being with a bunch of people you love all wrong.

However you decide to take it, he does know one thing. He loves them, all of them, his pack and his best friends that he hopes he’ll get to be with to the end of times. He’s not saying he will, he’s saying he hopes to.

Whatever will happen, one thing he’s sure of, he will never let them end up like a backhand compliment of a movie to what being in love with multiple people is.

**Author's Note:**

> because a girl leaving her awesome relationship with her partners for some dudebro was completely illogical so i had the need to fix it and throw in some werewolves and hales aka my two favorite things


End file.
